


Us or the Hunt

by Basez_Dreams



Series: Surprise, Surprise 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basez_Dreams/pseuds/Basez_Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second installment to the Surprise, Surprise 'Verse.</p><p>Warning: MPREG</p>
            </blockquote>





	Us or the Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> Second part in the Surprise, Surprise 'verse

**Us or the Hunt**  
  
Sam was about three months pregnant when the ‘us or the hunt’ argument started. He had been thinking about it for a while and knew there was no way that he would be able to continue to live doing what they do. He had the entire conversation planned in his head, from start to finish, but when he was actually faced with talking to Dean about it, he couldn’t do it.  
  
It was going to be hard, he knew, to convince Dean to change their lifestyle and settle down and be, well, be normal. As normal as they could be, anyway. There was no way they would be able to travel around the country when Sam got bigger, and Sam did not want to subject his baby to a life similar to what he had experienced. Although he loved where he had ended up, being with Dean and being pregnant, that kind of life wouldn’t be fair to their child and he only hoped that Dean would be able to see that.  
  
*****  
  
Dean wandered back into the motel room after going to grab them some take-out. Sam wanted Chinese, so that is what Dan picked up. He found Sam laying on their bed, his hands resting on his stomach in a now familiar position, gazing up at the ceiling. It was obvious that he was deep in thought, as he barely flinched when Dean shut the door.  
  
He set the bags of food on the small table and went over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to his brother. He reached out and put his hand on top of Sam’s, giving them a loving squeeze.  
  
“Are you ok, Sammy?” he asked, hoping that he wasn’t feeling ill or anything.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam said, almost dazedly as he pulled his eyes away from the ceiling to look at Dean. “I was just thinking.”  
  
“Oh, really?” Dean smirked, as his hand travelled a bit lower so he could trace is fingers over the slightly rounded flesh. “About what?”  
  
Sam took a deep breath. This was it; now or never. “About…about us giving up the hunt.”  
  
Dean’s hand stilled in its exploration as Sam’s words were absorbed into his mind. His brow creased into a frown as he turned and looked at Sam a bit better. “You want to want to give up the hunt?” His voice held no emotion in it, and Sam knew that wasn’t a good thing.  
  
“I, er, yeah…I do.” Sam looked down at his hands, feeling the heavy weight of Dean’s stare. He sat up, which caused Dean’s hand to slip from his body, and he immediately missed his touch.  
  
“And when did you decide this?” Dean asked coolly, feeling the argument growing within his chest.  
  
“A few days ago,” Sam responded quietly, really beginning to think that this had been a bad idea. He knew how Dean felt about hunting, so why did he think that because he was pregnant he would suddenly change?  
  
“Sam, you know that I am not going to stop,” Dean told him as calmly as he could as he remained sitting stiffly next to his brother. “This is who I am, all I have ever known, and I just can’t up and quit. I thought you knew me better than that?”  
  
“I thought…I thought that you might change your mind now that we’re having baby.” Sam finally had the courage to look up at his brother, hope shining in his eyes. But that hope quickly evaporated when he saw the look on Dean’s face. “You won’t do it, will you? You won’t put us before the hunt.”  
  
“Sam, you know I can’t just give it up! This has been my whole life, and I can’t just throw it away because you want me to.”  
  
“Goddamn it, Dean! It’s not just about me and you anymore…we’ve got someone else we need to start thinking about and there is no way in Hell that I am going to give him the crappy start in life I had.” Sam snapped his mouth shut as soon as he said it, his eyes growing wide at how stupid he could be. He saw how Dean’s eyes suddenly went from cool to blazing. This. Was. Not. Good.  
  
“Well, I’m sorry your life started out so shitty…sorry I didn’t do a good enough job looking after you…sorry Dad didn’t try his _fucking_ hardest to make sure you had everything you needed while he tried to hunt down the fucker that killed mom and almost killed you, too.”  
  
“Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Sam started, but didn’t get to finish as Dean interrupted him.  
  
“Of course you didn’t mean anything! You never do!” Dean stood and walked away from Sam, grabbing his jacket. “You need to understand that this is my life and I just can’t be how you want me to be. I didn’t expect you to continue hunting, but I thought you understood that I needed to.” He opened the door and threw “Enjoy your dinner,” over his shoulder before he walked out, the door closing quietly behind him.  
  
Sam sank back down onto the bed, his heart aching. “That could’ve gone better,” he half-laughed, half-sobbed to himself. He wouldn’t allow himself to become upset by it, didn’t want to feel stressed. He had a vague idea of what stress could do to a pregnancy, and didn’t want to put his baby in danger. So he just pulled the covers up over himself and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.  
  
******  
  
Sam startled awake, blinking blearily in the dark room. He turned his head to the side and caught sight of the red glow of the generic alarm clock, seeing that it had just gone ten. Sam sat up and looked to the other bed to see if he could see Dean, but the bed was empty.  
  
Sam’s heart suddenly dropped, realising that Dean must be really pissed to stay out for four hours. He turned on the lamp by the bed and stood up, walking to the table to retrieve his phone. The food was still there, all bagged up, but food was the last thing on his mind. He wanted Dean.  
  
He hit the speed dial on his phone and waited for Dean to pick up, but he gave up after the eighth ring. He sighed and put his phone back down on the table.  
  
He sat back on the edge of the bed, sighing, his hands hanging limply in his lap. Why on earth did he have to open his mouth and practically demand that Dean give up hunting? He knew that it was so ingrained in Dean’s mind and life that he wouldn’t just leave it behind and be ‘normal’…but he wished that his brother could see where he was coming from, wished he could understand.  
  
Sam now knew there was no way he could get Dean to pack it in. He was ready to accept that, but that didn’t stop the fear in his heart at the thought of maybe one day losing his lover, leaving him alone with their child.  
  
Sam looked around the room, wondering what he could do to pass the time until Dean got back. There really wasn’t much he wanted to do that didn’t include lying down and a fluffy comforter. He chose to pick up the battered copy of Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’, and made himself comfortable before reading from where he had left off.  
  
*****  
  
Not even half an hour later, Sam heard a low moan coming from outside the door. He put the book down and listened to see if he heard it again. It came a few moments later, and before Sam could even think about what he was doing, he rushed to open the door, sure it was Dean coming back to him, obviously very drunk.  
  
He didn’t realise that his foot accidentally kicked and broke the line of protection made with salt.  
  
“Dean?” Sam called into the night air, not being able to see his brother. “Dean?”  
  
After not hearing or seeing any sign that his brother was there, Sam sighed and turned to go back in. He shut the door and went back to bed, not seeing the hulking figure within the shadows of the far side of the room.  
  
Sam retuned to his book, and turned on his side, burrowing under the covers. For a few moment he was reabsorbed in the words he was reading, but then he felt a cold shiver run down his spine and he knew instantly he was being watched.  
  
As carefully as he could, he slipped his hand under the pillow where he knew there was a loaded glock stashed. He got a grip on it and carefully slid his hand back out. He could hear the adrenaline pounding in his ears. He had no time to wish Dean was there as he knew he had to keep focused; he wasn’t just protecting himself, he was protecting his baby, too.  
  
He sat up sharply and spun around, pointing the gun in the direction of where he knew the intruder was.  
  
Grating laughter filled them room, and Sam could not see what or who it was coming from, only that there was a dark figure in the corner.  
  
“You think that can kill me, you stupid little boy?” The voice came from the darkness, cutting through it like blades slicing at Sam’s skin.  
  
“Who…who are you?” Sam hated that his voice was shaking, but he was scared. Really scared.  
  
“You’re asking the wrong question,” came the cryptic reply.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Sam asked hoping that his voice sounded strong. “You’re the one who came here, so you should---ARGH!!!”  
  
Sam suddenly found himself being thrown to the wall, suspended in mid air. He watched in horror as the demon stepped out from the darkness and toward him. “No…”  
  
“Yes, Sammy,” the demon smiled, yellow eyes glinting in the darkness.  
  
“H-h-how?” Sam whimpered feeling pain beginning to sinking into his abdomen.  
  
“I couldn’t let you win,” the Demon said evenly. “You and your brother sent me to Hell, I just had to come back and return the favour.”  
  
“You can’t. It’s not possible!” Sam cried desperately, praying that Dean would come back and save him.  
  
“Oh, but it is, _Sammy_. You see, I have friends in very low places, and they can make things happen.”  
  
Sam screamed in agony as he felt like he was being ripped open from the inside, knives, sharp blades tearing at his skin. “NOOO!!!” He screamed as he realised what the Demon was doing; he was ripping his baby from him and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. “DEAAAANNNN!!!!!”  
  
“No use calling for your brother, he isn’t going to come,” the Demon smirked, his eyes glowing Satanically. He stepped closer, looking up at Sam, allowing this to last a bit longer than he did for Dean.  
  
For the first time, Sam saw the blood splattered on his clothing and new instantly that it was his brother’s. “Dean…”  
  
“Is dead. Didn’t put up much of a fight either, even when I told him what I was going to do to you and your…offspring.”  
  
Sam could feel tears leaking from his eyes and as much as he didn’t want them to fall, he couldn’t stop them. If this was it, then he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words were hurting him more then the painful death he was going to suffer. “FUCK…YOU!” he spat. He saw the rage boil in the Demon’s face before the pain he was feeling increased.  
  
Sam could feel his stomach tearing and he could feel the exact moment when the tiny baby was stolen from him and he felt his life draining away. He had nothing to live for anymore anyway, so he just gave up.  
  
******  
  
Before Dean could even get through the door he could hear Sam yelling and screaming. He burst over the threshold, thinking that something managed to get in, but felt relief filled his body when he saw that Sam was dreaming.  
  
That relief was short lived, however, when he noticed that Sam was horribly distressed. He rushed over to the bed, making sure to kick the door shut, and began to try and wake his brother from his nightmare.  
  
He pushed down on Sam’s shoulders to stop him from thrashing around and began trying to wake him up. “Sam!!! Sammy!!! Wake up!!! C’mon, baby, you’re dreaming…I’ve got, you, you’re okay.”  
  
Sam’s eyes suddenly shot open and he just stared at Dean for a second before he broke down, sobs wracking his body violently.  
  
Dean understood that it must have been an extremely bad dream for Sam to have a reaction as severe as this. He laid down with him and wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight, whispering words of comfort as he waited for Sam to calm down.  
  
It took a long time for Sam’s sobs to calm down, and he still clung desperately to Dean’s shirt as the tears dried.  
  
“What did you dream about?” Dean asked quietly, his fingers sifting through Sam’s damp hair.  
  
Sam didn’t answer for a while, he didn’t want to have to recall what he had dreamt. He knew he had to tell Dean though, and he screwed his eyes tightly closed as the images flashed through his mind. “I can’t…I don’t…”  
  
“Sam, you have to tell me. How can I make it better if you don’t?” Dean tried to reason with his lover. Sam never withheld any of his nightmares from him, so it really must have been horrific for his brother.  
  
Sam took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. He curled tighter into Dean before he started relaying what happened in the dream. “You had left…you didn’t come back and I was alone…”  
  
Dean’s heart tightened at the fact that he had stormed out and left his brother alone, guilt swelling in his chest. His kissed him gently on the top of the head and held him securely as words started pouring from his lips.  
  
“I heard like this moaning sound outside the door and I thought it might be you drunk or something, so I went outside to have a look. You weren’t there, but I had left the door open long enough to let…to let the…the D-Demon in…”  
  
“Oh, God, Sammy…”  
  
“I think I must have broken the salt line somehow, because he was in here, Dean. He was here and he was waiting for me to notice him.” He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat and tried desperately to keep his tears under control.  
  
Dean wondered if it had been a good idea to get Sam to open up to him. But then again, did he really want to let Sam deal with it on his own?  
  
“I tried to shoot him but he got me first. I wanted you to help me but…but you…y-you were already dead. And Dean, I knew what he was going to do to me before he did it…” Tears poured down his cheeks, soaking Dean’s t-shirt through.  
  
Dean held Sam tightly to him, his own tears blurring his vision as he heard the anguish that Sam was feeling.  
  
“He ripped the baby from me…” Sam told him quietly. “He took our baby from inside me and he killed it and I couldn’t do anything…”  
  
Dean’s hand slid down Sam’s back and curled around to rest on Sam’s belly, as if trying to protect the child cocooned within.  
  
“He killed our b-baby and I gave up…I lost you and I lost the baby and I had nothing to live for anymore, so I just gave up…” Sam finally trailed off and he surrendered to the full-body sobs that had been waiting to start again.  
  
Dean held his brother tighter than he could ever remember doing. The guilt he was feeling had tripled in size and he felt heartbroken at the sheer angst in Sam’s voice. He should never have left his brother alone. It didn’t matter that it was only a dream; what Sam had had to see and feel was as true as the real thing. “Shhhh, baby. I got you, I’m not going to let anything hurt you,” he tried to soothe through his own tears. “We killed him, Sam, and he is not coming back. We made sure of that. Dad and Bobby did, too, and there is no way he can come back and hurt us.”  
  
Dean’s words penetrated through Sam’s hazy mind, and he nodded, knowing Dean was speaking the truth. He wiped his face off on Dean’s already wet shirt, trying to clear away the tears and snot, and he looked up and blinked wearily at him. “I just wish I could forget it. I can still feel the way it hurt when our son was taken from me…” His hand went to his stomach, joining Dean’s, as they both tried to shield their unborn child from this anguish.  
  
“But it’s not real, Sammy. It’ll never be real. The only way he is going to come out of you is when he’s ready to come and meet us, ok? No sooner than that.”  
  
“Promise?” Sam whispered, his eyes large and red-rimmed, looking every bit the innocent younger brother Dean knew him to be.  
  
“I promise, Sammy.” He paused for a moment before he spoke again. “But now do you see why I can’t give up hunting? I have to protect you from these things that could hurt the both of you. I need to keep you safe.”  
  
Sam took this on board and eventually nodded with a sigh. “Yes, I know. But Dean, I only want you to do the ones that are close, ok? I can’t bear the thought of you being that far away from me. Anything could happen.”  
  
Dean knew Sam had a point, so he agreed. “Ok. I’ll only do the ones that are close by and I won’t drag you across the country looking for them, ok?”  
  
“Thank you,” Sam whispered, kissing the hollow of Dean’s throat.  
  
“Anything for you, Sammy.” And he meant it.  
  
******  
  
Approximately a week later, Dean and Sam were travelling halfway across the country at the request of their Father to meet him at Bobby’s in Durham, South Dakota. Both knew what it meant, although neither would mention it until they arrived.  
  
Seven hours later, Dean was pulling the Impala to a halt outside of Bobby’s place, his Father’s truck already there. They piled out of the car, Sam a little slower than his brother, as he felt bone-weary from the journey.  
  
John was out of the house to greet them, giving them both father-to-son hugs, although Sam felt that John was holding back slightly when it came to him.  
  
“It’s good to see you boys,” John said, his voice gruff with unspoken emotion.  
  
“Good to see you, too, sir.” Dean replied, offering a slight smile.  
  
“And Sammy, you look…” John shook his head in amazement, at a loss for words.  
  
“Fat,” Sam said bluntly. “I knew it! I look fat. Why the Hell didn’t you tell me I look fat, Dean?!” His eyes were blazing with barely concealed hurt and anger, accusing Dean of something that he had no idea about.  
  
“Sam, you don’t…” Dean started, but shut up as soon as Sam glared at him. He pleaded to John with his eyes, begging him to come to his aid. Thankfully his father got the hint.  
  
“Sam, I wasn’t going to say…that…I was going to say you look radiant. I’ve never seen you look like this before. I’d say that pregnancy definitely agrees with you.”  
  
Sam seemed to think this over for a bit, before his whole face lit up with a smile. _Good save, old man,_ Dean thought. He quickly smiled when Sam looked at him, and then went to grab their bags from the trunk.  
  
*****  
  
Inside, after Bobby greeted them, they sat down to have some food. For a middle-aged single guy, Bobby sure did know how to cook! Sam couldn’t get enough of the stew, getting up for seconds, thirds and then more! This wasn’t any different from usual, as Dean was used to Sam’s appetite, but knowing the reasons behind it of late made his heart feel warm.  
  
Sam looked up to see Dean watching at him and blushed at the look of pure adoration on his face. He ducked his eyes and looked up again, smiling gently and biting his lower lip. At this moment in time, there was no one else in the room. That was, until John cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
  
“I never thought I would see it with my own eyes,” he admitted, looking from one to the other. “Any other Father would be disgusted by his two sons having an intimate relationship together…does that mean I’m a bad parent because I don’t?” he said, half serious.  
  
“No, dad, it doesn’t,” Sam told him quietly. “Just means you’re understanding and love us no matter what.”  
  
“How the Hell was I blessed with you, Sammy? My little boy, all grown up,” he replied, his emotions getting the better of him.  
  
“Dad…” Sam whined. “You’re getting creepy.”  
  
John laughed, as did the others at the table. “Oh, Sammy,” he said, wiping at his eyes.  
  
Sam pouted with indignation, only causing more laughter to swell up around him and eventually he couldn’t help but join in either.  
  
******  
  
The light-hearted atmosphere that had surrounded the four men soon dissipated when the reason for Dean and Sam’s summoning was brought up.  
  
“So, why did we have to be here ‘asap’?” Dean asked when the mood had turned calm.  
  
John gave Bobby a look before he explained his reason. “There’s a pretty bad haunting a few hours away from here and it’s too big of a job for just the two of us.”  
  
Dean looked over at Sam, whose face had completely closed up.  
  
“We know that Sam can’t go, but we would really appreciate it if you lent a hand, Dean.” Bobby said softly, trying his hardest not to upset the younger man.  
  
“You should go,” Sam spoke up, looking across at Dean, smiling slightly. “I know you want to, and I’ll be ok here. Magical fortress, remember?” he tried to joke, although he knew Dean could see through his attempt at humour.  
  
“Are you sure, Sammy?” Dean asked. “I won’t be far away, but if you don’t want me to go…”  
  
“Dean, I’m not gonna stop you from going, ok? Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”  
  
Dean took this on board and after a moment, decided that Sam wasn’t lying. He held his hand out for Sam to come over to him, wanting to be able to touch his lover, even if it was in front of their Father.  
  
“How long are we going to be?” Dean asked as Sam stood and walked over to him, sitting in the gap between his legs, snuggling back into his embrace.  
  
Sam sighed in contentment when Dean wrapped his arms around him, resting his hands gently on Sam’s slightly rounded belly.  
  
“About three days; four tops.” John answered, staring at the way his sons were acting. His gaze shifted to Bobby, who looked completely indifferent.  
  
“Okay,” Sam responded for the both of them, sinking further into Dean’s embrace. _Three days, maybe four._ He could live with that.  
  
“Will you be okay on your own?” Dean asked, his lips pressed against his brother’s ear.  
  
Sam shivered, his eyes slipping closed for a minute. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’ll be fine. Just come back in one piece, k?”  
  
Dean chuckled lightly, but could hear the serious undertone of Sam’s voice. “Yes, baby. I promise.”  
  
“When are you leaving?” Sam looked up and over at John, addressing him with the question.  
  
“Early tomorrow.”  
  
Again Sam nodded, but he didn’t like the fact that Dean would be leaving so soon; but then again, the sooner he left, the quicker he would be back.  
  
“So I guess we should head on up, then,” Dean sighed, shifting in his seat. He didn’t feel very happy about leaving Sam behind, especially so soon. But his Father and Bobby needed him, and truth be told, he wanted to go.  
  
“Yeah, okay.” Sam agreed, standing up. As soon as Dean was standing as well, Sam grabbed ahold of his hand and began leading him out of the room  
  
“We need to be out of here by 5am, okay, Dean?” John called after them.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll be ready.”  
  
“He may be ready, but I bet he’ll be in a pissy mood,” Bobby laughed as soon as they were out of earshot.  
  
John looked at him confused. “Why?”  
  
“Well, let’s just say that I don’t think Sam’ll let him sleep much tonight and you know as well as I do how Dean gets when’s he’s tired.”  
  
John rolled his eyes at his friend and left him in the lounge laughing to himself.  
  
*****  
  
Early the next morning, Dean was quietly walking down the wooden stairs, trying not to disturb Sam.  
  
Sam had been absolutely insatiable the night before, and although Dean loved it when Sam got like that, he was paying for it now. Dean winced as he shifted just so, and he prayed that John and Bobby wouldn’t say anything if they noticed that he was walking more bow-legged than usual.  
  
Dean had been mildly surprised when Sam had simply said a sleepy goodbye to him, allowing himself to be kissed before rolling into Dean’s spot and falling back asleep. Dean was sure there would have been tears, whimpers, or something! But Sam’s raging hormones seemed to be taking a break for the time being, so Dean was able to leave without feeling too guilty.  
  
John and Bobby were waiting for him down stairs. They had already loaded up John’s truck and Dean already had his weapons in the Impala. So, with one last look up at the bedroom window where Sam was peacefully sleeping, he got in the car and started the ignition.  
  
*****  
  
Dean hadn’t even been gone a full day and yet Sam was missing him like crazy. He had never been left alone to his own devices at Bobby’s before in all the time that he had known his Father’s friend.  
  
Sam had spent the morning lounging around in his sweats, working his way through Bobby’s kitchen cupboards, trying to find something to satisfy his and his baby’s hunger. He finally found a jar of dill pickles and returned to the bed where he sat up and watched daytime television on the old set that was stuck in the corner.  
  
By the time the second episode of ‘7th Heaven’ came on, and _who on earth watches that crap_ Sam wondered, he’d had enough and flicked the television off. The room was dowsed in silence and Sam felt utterly alone. For the first time since Dean had gone, he wished that he had gone with him. He hated being by himself.  
  
His hand rubbed over his tummy as he remembered he wasn’t alone; wouldn’t be alone for a long time to come. Knowing that there was a little life in him sparked his brain into gear. He went and retrieved his laptop and brought it back over to the bed so he could look up baby names. He wouldn’t choose a definite name until Dean was back, but there was no harm in getting a head start, was there? He knew, he just knew, it was a boy, so that narrowed his search down some. At the very least, this would keep him entertained for a while.  
  
*****  
  
Sam awoke to the shrill ringing of his phone; he would kill Dean for putting that generic tone on there. He pressed ’answer’ without looking at the display, knowing exactly who it was.  
  
“Hey,” he drawled, his voice husky and heavy with sleep. His arm reached out from underneath the covers and wiped at his eyes, trying to rub away the last lingering hold sleep had on him.  
  
“Hey yourself,” came the gravely reply, a hint of a smile in his voice.  
  
Sam smiled into the phone as he turned on his side and snuggled deeper into the covers, his brother’s voice making his entire body tingle. “How’s it going there?”  
  
Sam heard Dean sigh into the phone before he answered. “It’s going fine. Just kinda wish I was somewhere else right now…”  
  
Sam stifled a laugh, knowing what Dean was getting at, but he wasn’t going to give it over that easy. Well, he probably would. “Is that right? I thought you wanted to be there?”  
  
“I did…but now I know what I’m missing back there,” Dean admitted honestly.  
  
“Awwww, you really are a big mush ball on the quiet, aren’t you?” Sam giggled.  
  
“Shut up,” Dean retorted, sounding petulant. “I thought you liked it when I was all mushy and stuff.”  
  
Sam could hear Dean’s sorry excuse for a pout through the phone, so decided to take pity on him. “I do…and I wish you were here, too.” He bit his lower lip before asking a question. “Where’re Dad and Bobby?”  
  
“Sam, I didn’t call you to talk about Dad and Bobby.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. It never ceased to amaze him how his incredibly beautiful lover was so incredibly slow sometimes. “I didn’t want to talk about them. I want to know if you’re alone…” He waited for the ball to drop and he heard it in the form of Dean’s breath hitching.  
  
“They’re at the bar. Won’t be back for hours.”  
  
Sam murmured his assent, pushing his sweats down with one hand, arching his back so he could shuck them off properly. “Good,” Sam whispered, his hand sliding under his shirt to trail along the sensitive skin on his stomach, just below his belly button.  
  
“God, Sammy, are you touching yourself?” Dean asked.  
  
“Mmmmm,” Sam sighed, his finger tips brushing across the head of his cock, which was growing in hardness. “Maybe…”  
  
“Sam…” Dean groaned, and Sam knew, he just knew, that Dean’s hand was curling around his own hard dick.  
  
“I wish you were here, Dean.” Sam sighed into the mouth piece, licking his dry lips. “I’m so horny…I wish you were here so you could fuck me…open me wide with your tongue, first.”  
  
“ _Fuck,_ ” Dean cursed, his hand tightening around his erection, jeans and boxers pushed down around his knees. “T-tell me what you want...tell me what you’re doing to yourself.”  
  
Sam enveloped his finger into his mouth, getting it wet, before he answered. “I’ve got my finger all wet, Dean, got it wet ‘cause I’m going to put it in myself, wishing it was your cock.”  
  
Sam heard Dean gasp on the other end of the line, and smirked to himself before he shifted, raising his hips and sliding one finger slowly inside himself. His back arched and the hand that was holding the phone to his ear tightened. “It…it’s in me, Dean…my finger, it’s pushing inside me, but I wish it was you…need you here, Dean, need you i-in me…”  
  
“Need you too, Sammy, wish it was me, too. I’d push my finger in you so deep, but not deep enough to touch your prostate…I’d wait for a second finger to do that…”  
  
Sam could hear the steady slap of skin on skin behind what was Dean saying. Knowing his brother was touching himself made Sam crazy with need, and harder than steel. He bit the inside of his cheek, stifling a moan as he pushed another finger inside himself, brushing against his prostate ever so slightly.  
  
“Don’t hold it in, baby,” Dean panted, his arousal so obvious to Sam. “I want to hear you, want to hear you work yourself up and come for me...” He broke off with a whimper at the images that were conjured up in his mind.  
  
Sam’s back arched as he continued to thrust his fingers into his body, moaning loudly when he hit his prostate.  
  
“That’s it, Sammy,” Dean gasped, the steady ‘slap-slap-slap’ of his hand on his cock getting faster.  
  
“Not gonna…not gonna last, Dean.” Sam panted. “Need-need you to touch my cock…so hard, need…need…”  
  
“Ok, Sam, I gotcha…I’m touching your cock now, stroking you just the way you like it.”  
  
Sam some how managed to put his phone on loudspeaker before he reached down to pull on his straining erection, sighing with relief. His hand mimicked Dean’s words, imagining it was his brother’s touch and not his own that was bringing him closer to spiraling over the edge. Both hands worked in unison, but he losing the simultaneous action. He tried to keep it going though, but he could feel his orgasm creeping up on him, starting with tingling in his toes. “Dean…” he gasped, his head tipped back, eyes closed tight as he imagined his brother on top of him, thrusting into him hard and deep.  
  
“That’s it Sammy,” Dean grunted, his hand picking up the pace on his stiff prick, the clear fluid leaking from the head steadily. His hand made its way up under his shirt, his skin clammy from sweat, and pinched his nipple, sending sparks of pleasure straight to his groin. “Come for me…I can here you want to come…do it, Sam, come!!!”  
  
Dean’s words provided the only stimulation he needed and with a sharp cry and arch of his back, he came all over his stomach and chest, whimpering Dean’s name as the pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave.  
  
Dean heard Sam come and he could no longer hold back. “Nnnnnngh…!!!!” Dean’s come flooded his fist, wishing that it was Sam’s tight ass. He shuddered as the last few tremors ebbed away, leaving him feeling lethargic and drained.  
  
Sam came back to himself and removed his fingers, wiping them on the sheet, then using it to wipe of his come…he’d do the laundry in the morning. He found his phone and took it off speakerphone and brought it up to his ear. “Fuck, Dean…”  
  
“I know, Sammy,” came the quiet reply. “I know.”  
  
“God, I’m counting the hours till you get back. I don’t like this, don’t like you being away from me.”  
  
“Me neither, Sammy. I promise I’m not gonna leave you for months to come.”  
  
Sam smiled into the phone. “Good, I’m glad.” His body suddenly betrayed him and he let out a loud yawn.  
  
Dean chuckled lightly at the sound. “Go to sleep, Sammy, and I’ll give you a call tomorrow night ok? Hopefully it’ll be to let you know that we’ll be on our way back.”  
  
“I hope so, too,” Sam said, his eyelids getting heavy. “Love you, Dean.”  
  
“Love you, too, Sammy. Sleep tight.”  
  
“Mmmhmmm,” came the sleepy reply and then Dean disabled the connection. Sam let his phone go and snuggled deeper into the covers, looking forward to Dean’s next call.  
  
At that moment in time, he didn’t know that that call would never come and he would be thrown into a situation that would be his worst nightmare come to life.  
  
******  
  
The next night, Sam made sure to stay up late, waiting for Dean’s promised phone call. But it never came. Sam fell asleep just after two am, his phone remaining silent on the beside table.  
  
******  
  
Late the next morning, Sam was jarred out of his sleep because of a dream that was already fading from his mind. He wiped at his face, trying to rub away the remains of sleep when he looked over at his phone, suddenly remembering that Dean was supposed to have called him.  
  
He threw the covers off himself as he sat bolt up right, scrambling for his phone. He opened it, and his heart gave an unnatural twist when he saw he had no voice mail, no missed call and no text messages.  
  
He hit speed dial for Dean’s phone and held it up to his ear. Dean was going to get such an earful. When it went straight through to voice mail, Sam’s mind suddenly went to a place it had only been a handful of times. Something had happened to his brother.  
  
******  
  
Sam’s anxiousness turned to full blown despair as the days slowly went by. He tried to get hold of both John and Bobby when he couldn’t get through to Dean, but those calls went straight to voice mail, too. He kept trying and trying, not giving up, but he couldn’t get through.  
  
He made sure his phone was always charged just in case Dean was trying to get in touch, but on the fifth day, Sam was beginning to feel like Dean was no longer alive to be able to do it.  
  
Maybe he should go and try and find him? But he never heard where the place was. And if he did go, then what if Dean came back and he wasn’t there?  
  
Sam came down from his room and into the lounge, one of Dean’s t-shirts pressed close to his face, needing to feel his brother around him. He sat down on the couch and curled up in the corner, finally allowing, after almost a week, his emotions to break out. The tears trickled slowly out of his eyes, and he kept the t-shirt held up to his face, and his other arm wrapped protectively around his stomach.  
  
A sob caught in his throat as it sunk in that maybe Dean wouldn’t be coming back.  
  
******  
  
Another three days went by and Sam had still not heard anything from his brother, Father or God-father, and he had spiraled into a deep seated sadness, unable to do anything; unable to shave, unable to wash, barely able to eat.  
  
It was on the ninth day that he found himself in the kitchen, moving like a zombie, barely aware of what he was doing. He had found the strength to have a quick shower, but didn’t shave, just wanting to feel at least a little cleaner. He had pulled on Dean’s t-shirt and a pair of his own sweat pants before he headed to the kitchen, where he proceeded to feed his body, knowing his baby needed the nutrition even though he did not want it himself.  
  
He never heard the sound of the Impala pulling up, or the front door open and close. His mind was focused on how he was going to cope without his family and without his lover. How was he going to raise a child on his own? What was he going to tell the others? How would he ever be able to carry on without his lover by his side?  
  
A hand came down on his shoulder and he cried out, spinning round, ready to hit whomever it was.  
  
When he was struck with the sight of his brother, looking a little worse for wear, all the stress, the worry, bubbled to the surface and before he could utter a sound, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell into darkness.  
  
******  
  
 **Nine days earlier.**  
  
“Jesus _Christ_ , Dad!” Dean exclaimed when all three men crawled up the river bank, soaking wet and shivering. “I told you that bridge was too rickety.”  
  
“It didn’t look that bad,” John defended himself, laying back on the muddy ground, trying to catch his breath. There was nothing quite like icy water to knock the breath right out of you. “Although, I have to say I am glad you refused to take the Impala across.” He scowled as a lump of mud hit him on the head.  
  
“You’re lucky I’m too frostbitten to pound on you right now,” Dean said with a scowl. His mind suddenly shifted to Sammy and it warmed his heart knowing that his brother was waiting for him. He dug into his pocket for his phone, intent on sending his brother a text message, but the water pouring from the small device put a hinder on his plans. “Fuck!”  
  
“What? What’s wrong?” Bobby asked from where he sat a few feet away.  
  
“My phone is fucking waterlogged is what’s wrong.” He glared at John, mentally blaming him.  
  
Both John and Bobby pulled their phones out and were dismayed to find that both their phones were ruined, too. “Well, shit.”  
  
“Great, now how am I supposed to tell Sam that we’re gonna be longer than expected?”  
  
“I told you to call him before we left,” John said. “But oh no, you said you’d phone him later.”  
  
“And I told you that bridge would fucking collapse!! What the hell am I supposed to do, now? You know he‘ll worry.”  
  
“Use a public phone,” John suggested a matter-of-factly.  
  
“In case you forgot, we’re in the middle of no where! There’s not even a goddamn motel!”  
  
“Dean, calm down. I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t know it was going to break on us like that, and Sam’ll understand if we’re a little longer; he knows to expect these things.”  
  
For John’s sake as well as his own, Dean hoped that he was right. He didn’t relish the thought of dealing with a pissy lover.  
  
*******  
  
After over a week of trying to get rid of four stubborn spirits, Dean was finally back at Bobby’s, his Dad and the other man an hour or so behind him. He had broken pretty much all speed laws to get back to his brother and beg for forgiveness for taking so long and not getting in touch with him.  
  
The Impala screeched to a halt and he scrambled out the door and into the house, leaving his bags to be collected later.  
  
“Sam?” he called, walking deeper into the house. “Sammy?” he heard rustling coming form the kitchen and a sound that suspiciously sounded like crying. He entered the room and saw Sam with his back to him. “Sammy?” he spoke again, but it was apparent that his brother did not hear him. When he finally reached out and touched him, he was not expecting the reaction that he got.  
  
As he saw the look on Sam’s face, the paleness of his skin, the bags under his eyes, the unshaven face, in that moment he knew he should have returned sooner. Before he could say anything, Sam was falling, his eyes rolling back in his head.  
  
Dean had to act fast, otherwise Sam would’ve hit the floor hard, his body at gravity’s mercy. He lunged forward before Sam could hit the ground like dead weight, and now, instead, he hung in his arms like a rag doll. Dean tried to manoeuvre his brother carefully, all the while his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, as he had no idea what was wrong.  
  
Sam’s head rolled back as Dean tried to slide them both carefully to the floor, not wanting to hurt either Sam or their unborn child. He finally got Sam on the ground, cradled in his arms, and he sat stroking his his face, willing him to come around. “C’mon, Sammy, wake up. You’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”  
  
Dean stared down at Sam’s limp body, noticing how bad he looked. He made up his mind there and then he wasn’t going to leave him again. Ever.  
  
A soft groaning from his brother’s parted lips brought his attention back to the matter at hand. Sam’s eyelids started to flutter until finally, he opened them.  
  
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean whispered, stroking his face lightly, concern shining in his eyes.  
  
“Dean?” came Sam’s voice, sounding very unsteady.  
  
“Yeah, baby, it’s me.” Dean answered softly, not willing to move his brother from his position in his arms.  
  
“I thought you were dead…” came the choked response and fat tears rolled out of Sam’s eyes and down the side of his face, soaking into the material of Dean’s clothing.  
  
Before Dean could say anything, Sam sat bolt up right, turning so that he was facing Dean head on. “I thought you were dead!!!” he cried out in the silent room, punching his brother in the chest.  
  
“I-what--?” Dean rubbed his chest from the impact of Sam’s fist, not really understanding what was going on.  
  
“Where the FUCK have you BEEN?!?!?!?!” Sam exclaimed, his face going red with anger, not bothering to wait for Dean to catch on. “You said you were going to call and that was nine FUCKING days ago!!!!”  
  
“I know, I’m sorry…Dad made us walk over a rickety old bridge and it broke on us. I swear Sammy, I was going to call, but my phone…it was waterlogged…” Dean desperately tried to explain. “Sam, I’m sorry…”  
  
“What and you couldn’t find a public phone? Couldn’t call just to say don’t worry?!” Sam was still looking at Dean, his face boiling with rage, not allowing the relief he felt to come through. “Goddammit, Dean!! Do you have any idea what I was going through?!” Sam pushed away from Dean who was trying to draw him closer.  
  
“I couldn’t, we were in the middle of no where and there wasn’t even a motel!” Dean told him, desperately wanting him to understand. “I didn’t know we were going to be that long, Sam, I swear. It was a lot more complicated than we first thought.”  
  
“I don’t care, Dean. I don’t want your excuses!” Sam stood up and made to walk away from him, but Dean was soon on his feet, reaching out and grabbing hold of Sam’s arms to stop him from leaving.  
  
They stood, looking at each other, one with sorrow in his eyes, the other with anger.  
  
Dean was about to speak, but suddenly Sam had him slammed against the fridge, his body pressing into his. Dean tried to talk again, but Sam’s mouth was on his. Dean could do nothing but hold on as Sam’s tongue forced its way between his lips, his teeth clashing with his brother’s. There was nothing loving about this kiss; Sam was using his lips, teeth and tongue to punish him.  
  
Dean put his hands on Sam’s shoulders to push him away, but instead, he found himself drawing him closer, wanting more. Sam was gripping his hips hard, and he knew that there were going to be bruises in the shape of his brother’s fingers, and the thought thrilled him.  
  
Sam ground his hips desperately into Dean’s, swallowing the moans and whimpers that were leaking from his brother’s mouth. He needed Dean, he needed the confirmation that this wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. He had never felt so happy in his life, but he was not about to let Dean know. He wanted to burn his fury out.  
  
Dean was a little confused when he found himself being turned sharply so that he was facing the fridge, his arms bracing his body above his head. He knew that Sam was angry with him and this was about reaffirming that Dean was back, but this was turning Dean on like nothing else. He may have to get Sam this angry again!  
  
Sam’s hands slid over Dean’s back, circling round to his waist. His fingers travelled up under his shirt as he nipped at Dean’s neck, leaving marks that would show anyone who could see that Dean was his.  
  
Sam dragged his fingernails over Dean’s sensitive chest, scraping over his nipples, and the older man arched, pushing his ass into Sam’s groin, feeling the steely hardness that was there. “Fuck, Sammy…”  
  
“You like that, big brother? You like me marking you?” Sam growled against his neck.  
  
“Ye-yeah…” Dean gasped as Sam bit down on his shoulder.  
  
“I’m going to fuck you, Dean. Right here, right now.” In response to his own words, Sam swiftly undid Dean’s jeans, pulling both them and his boxers down, before doing the same with his own. At this moment, he didn’t give a shit about foreplay or the fact that John and Bobby could walk in at any moment. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, getting them as slick as possible.  
  
Dean felt Sam pressing one finger into him, and he shifted, trying to get his legs spread wider, but the jeans that were still wrapped around his legs stopped him from doing so.  
  
Sam pressed one finger in, thrusting it twice before adding a second. He scissored his fingers, stretching Dean open. As soon as he was satisfied his brother was relaxed enough, he spat on his hand then slicked up his cock before he started pressing inside.  
  
Dean grunted at the intrusion, the lack of lube and preparation causing the initial entry to burn that much more. He cried out as Sam suddenly thrust forward, burying himself inside him, his balls up against his ass. The force of the thrust caused the fridge to shake, and the jars that were placed precariously on the top wobbled uncertainly.  
  
“Fuck, Dean, you’re so tight,” Sam groaned his face buried in he back of Dean’s neck. He waited a few moments to let Dean get used to the intrusion, before he slipped out and then slammed back in.  
  
“CHRIST!!!” Dean shouted as Sam hit his prostate dead on. He let his head rest on the side of his arm, allowing his brother to take him hard, over and over again, a string of curses falling from both their lips.  
  
The jars that were rocking rather rapidly finally gave up the fight and toppled over the edge, smashing to the floor at their feet. Neither one of the brother’s noticed, both too wrapped up in each other.  
  
Sam held onto Dean’s hips, all the while kissing and sucking the back of his neck. “Not gonna let you leave…” Sam grunted as his orgasm started to draw close. “Never…can’t…can’t cope…” His right hand slipped around Dean’s waist and took a hold of his cock, jerking it in time with his thrusts.  
  
Dean groaned deep in his chest as Sam’s massive hand wrapped around him, drawing his orgasm from him. He cried out in ecstasy as his cock sprayed jets of warm come over Sam’s hand and the fridge door. As the final waves of pleasure passed through him, he felt Sam stiffen behind him as his own orgasm took over. His ass was flooded with Sam’s wet heat, his final claim on Dean’s body. Everything Dean had and was, was his brother’s to own.  
  
Sam sagged against Dean’s back, his release finally draining all the anger from him, leaving him feeling relieved and shaky. He carefully pulled out of Dean with a slight shudder and stepped back a few spaces, broken glass and ceramics crunching up his shoes. He pulled up his sweats and avoided Dean’s gaze as his brother turned and pulled up his jeans, neglecting to do them back up.  
  
Dean knew that Sam was feeling guilty about what had just happened and the way it had happened, so he reached out and pulled Sam to him, embracing him in his arms. He felt guilty too, for being away for so long and not letting Sam know. He could’ve found away if he really tried to, but he was so caught up in the hunt that he didn’t give it a second thought, figuring Sam would understand. He never thought that Sam would be affected this badly.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Sammy,” Dean whispered to his brother, who was holding onto him tightly, almost afraid to let him go.  
  
“I thought you were dead,” came the reply, which was laced with tears. “I-I didn’t think I’d see you again.”  
  
Dean’s heart broke at the despair in his brother’s voice, his earlier fight apparently drained right out of him. He just held onto Sam tightly, hoping that his actions conveyed how sorry he was. His hand dipped down and caressed Sam’s belly, his heart aching. “Not gonna leave you again, Sam. Never, ok? Never.”  
  
Sam nodded against his neck, finally feeling human again. He pulled back slightly and looked Dean in the eye, colour filling his cheeks. “Did I hurt you?” he asked. “You know…before…?”  
  
Dean shook his head in the negative. “No, Sam, no. I, er, I enjoyed it.” Colour started to fill his own cheeks. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs, and I’ll show you how sorry I am.”  
  
Sam nodded, his eyes now shining again, the life back in them. Neither took the time to worry about the mess as they went upstairs and got properly reacquainted.  
  
*******  
  
A half hour later, after Sam and Dean had retreated upstairs, John and Bobby returned, each eager to pop open a couple of beers. They headed straight for the kitchen, not bothering to call out to the younger Winchesters.  
  
When they entered the kitchen, they stopped in their tracks upon seeing the mess on the floor. Broken glass and crockery littered the floor, and both minds went to one thing. There had been a fight.  
  
Both ran for the stairs, but stopped when they heard cries and a loud crash, followed by Sam swearing loudly, as if in pain.  
  
They both resumed their journey up the stairs and ran straight to where the noise was coming from. John had reached for the gun that was in the back of his jeans as he opened the door to Sam and Dean’s room, ready to start shooting at what had managed to get past the salt lines. What he saw instead almost made him almost shoot anyway.  
  
Dean was currently half-sitting on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard as Sam sat in his lap, riding him for all he was worth. Neither saw the shocked faces at the door, too wrapped up in each other notice anything but their own pleasure.  
  
From where John and Bobby were standing, they could see Dean’s cock through his parted legs, burying itself time and time again into Sam’s ass.  
  
When it actually registered to John that he was watching his sons fucking, he turned an incredible shade of red and hurriedly shut the door. “Do. Not. Say. One. Word. Robert.” John said evenly as he saw that Bobby was trying to contain his laughter.  
  
“I’m not saying a anything,” Bobby replied, already heading back down the stairs. “But helping me clean up the kitchen may stop you from thinking about it,” he laughed out loud when John took a swipe at his head.  
  
Back in the kitchen, they started picking up the shards of glass from the floor, doing their best to ignore what was going on above their heads. As John bent down to pick up a big piece of glass, he rested his hand on the fridge door for support, then pulled it back in disgust.  
  
“Christ! How the hell does Sam manage to spill mayo on the door?”  
  
Bobby looked over and could feel laughter bubbling up in his chest again. “Er, John? I don’t think that’s mayo…”  
  



End file.
